Burned Angel
by Eos Blaze 0402
Summary: His face is burnt canvas of his past, hers is a mask to hide pain. He hates being dependent, she is dependable. He is a king but she refuses to be his subject. He needs her skill, her comfort, her love but he will never beg. She needs his strength, his love but she will never surrender. Can there ever be love between them? Can it survive beneath their pride and misunderstandings?
1. Chapter 1

**This is the new elejah fic I have started. It's a bit unconventional but please give it a try and let me know what you think.**

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BURNED ANGEL

Chapter One

Draw me like fire,  
Seared across the page,  
Fast lines of red and orange,  
Only a fragment,  
Solitary burn  
until morning dew relieves me,  
Raw and open,  
open and closed,  
Make me the fire  
of quickly burning eyes.

-Blindness by Kassel D

* * *

Darkness was a refuge. It was an impregnable fortress where he could hide in his own loneliness and misery. It was a catacomb where he could lose himself without remembering the pain. He could feel the heat of sun on his skin, the smell of fallen apples of his orchard, he could smell the roses of his garden and yet he couldn't see. He couldn't see the light, the colors, the birds, the bees, the sun, the sky and numerous clouds that lined it. He couldn't see the beauty of roses, the optimism of sun, and the strength of the earth that bore his weight. Once upon a time he had seen them, taken in the beauty, the words that nature gave him. Once upon a time, a time long ago he had lived. But that time was long past, now he sat here, a shell of man that had once incited terror in the hearts of people he had ruled incited passion in women whom he had loved.

At the moment he just existed, sitting here in his garden he dreamt about the years that were long gone, dreamt about the brother he had lost, the sister he had sacrificed. Now when he couldn't see or feel he could analyze all the mistakes of his long burdened life. The oncoming footsteps alerted him of his personal aide's arrival.

Damon Salvatore had served Elijah Mikaelson for 113 years and from past 20 years he had been Elijah's eyes and ears. He tried his level best to keep his master informed of everything that went on in the vampire world. The king didn't sit on the throne these days that didn't mean the king was no longer a king. Elijah Mikaelson was the undisputed ruler of the dwellers of the dark, a place some said he had gained by defeating his father, the ancient one. Elijah was 'the vampire', creator who had created new race, turned the mortals into night walkers, a gift of immortality that was bestowed on chosen few.

He along with his four siblings represented the royalty of vampire world. Unfortunately, now only remained two apart from him. Some said his brother had been hunted by the ancient one, killed because he was part wolf. Some said he had killed his sister to save his brother. Nobody knew the truth apart from the people present in that garden. Elijah himself and Damon.

"She refused again master."

"Even after you made an offer for five million dollars?" he asked. His voice was deep husky baritone with slight accent.

"Yes master. She is adamant she won't come down here. She states either you go to Chicago or consult with different surgeon. She even faxed a list of other notable plastic surgeons."

"But I don't want someone else. I want the best and fastest. She is that. Dr. Elena Gilbert is the fastest plastic surgeon Damon, and in my case we need the speed."

"I understand master but she refuses every time. I don't know what to do." Damon was hesitant.

"Double the offer. Make it 10 million dollars. Let's see how she refuses that." The years he had roamed as vampire on the earth had taught him many things regarding human race and he knew from experience that humans were greedy. They always waited for something bigger, something better. He didn't think Elena Gilbert was any different. Just for this once he needed a mortal's greed for his own need.

"It's getting late sire, you must come inside."

Damon's hands settled on his shoulders as he stood to guide him towards his chambers. How he detested his weakness and abhorred his vulnerability and yet he was dependent on Damon. The hood of his cloak covered his face as it had from past 20 years, a mystery shrouded in darkness. His steps were slow and his gait tired. It looked as if time finally had caught up with the vampire lord, not physically but mentally. Physically he was considered a handsome man by those who remembered him, tall and lithe like a cudgel, his eyes a warm chocolaty brown and his hair like burnished dark bronze. His face had remained unchanged, youthful in its appearance; the clash of bones had created something aristocratic and handsome in its appearance. But nobody had seen him without his hood from past twenty years, nobody had seen him in the light of day, nobody had met him without the darkness surrounding him. To the newly created he was becoming a story, a story they told yet didn't believe. To the older ones he was becoming weak, his leadership in question. It was a fact that subjects needed to see their ruler to believe in order, to believe there was someone who could punish them for their misdeeds. The riots were breaking out in the parts of vampire world, the vampire territories fighting among themselves for control. They had reached his room.

"Will there be anything else, master?" Damon asked.

"No Damon. You are excused. I want to be alone."

The sudden stillness told him he was alone in his chambers and in his own proximity he threw back his hood. His hands rose to trace the familiar texture of his face, his skin but as soon as they came in contact with the surface, all they found were unfamiliarity. There was no smooth shaven cheek, no nose, no lips, no eye lids or lashes. His face was an ugly canvas of jutting bones and just healed flesh. It looked somebody had slashed his face open with knife and sewed it while they were drunk. His face was gruesome, a ghastly display of brutality and madness. The perfection of him was marred by the imperfection of his face. He still remembered the day it had happened, twenty years ago when he and his brother Nicklaus had been caught along with their sister Rebekah.

He could still hear Rebekah's screams, he could still hear Nicklaus's cry of anguish as they butchered his wife and child. Even now the memory of their fear, their terror terrified him. He was the strongest vampire in existence, the oldest and the original and yet he too was weak against vervain. They had used knifes soaked in vervain and ashes of white oak. Two things even Elijah Mikaelson couldn't fight. Damon had rescued him from his captors and he still didn't know what had become of his captured siblings. Every moment his undead heart tortured him and his nonexistent soul crowned him a coward. From past 20 years he hadn't seen the light, the world as it changed and morphed into something more intricate. From past 20 years his face had vanished behind his hood.

Damon had suggested the idea of a mortal surgeon reopening his face and resetting his bones, removing the lingering vervain, so that his face could heal properly to its former identity. Ten plastic surgeons had examined him till day; every one of them a notable name but only one or two had been able to keep their food down once they had examined the monstrosity of his face. Few months ago Damon had found an article in the Times magazine about Dr. Elena Gilbert and her speed by which she did a surgery. She was a renowned plastic surgeon, still young enough to be considered a child among her peers but talented enough to give them a run for their money. He had offered Elena Gilbert vast sum of money and yet she refused. Money was not a concern for him. In his more than thousand years of life he had accumulated huge wealth, the ten million dollars that he was offering her was a measly sum. He could offer her ten times more if she agreed to operate on him. He wasn't a vain person but he needed his eyes if not his face. He needed to see, he needed those eyes desperately, eyes that were buried beneath the healed mass of flesh.

He felt his way towards the window of his room. The cool air greeted his face, smelling faintly of lavender, roses and freshly mown grass. He turned his face upwards pretending he could still see the stars like diamonds stretched across the dark body of sky, pretending he could still see the moon creating the ripples of moonlight in the cosmic lake…

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**So what do you think? Should I continue this? Review and let me know what you think.**

**-Eos**

**:)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks to all of you guys who read, followed, favorite, reviewed, visited and viewed this story. And yes sadly I don't own Vampire Diaries. **

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Chapter Two

I don't know why do you cry?

Accept failure before you try,

Try to hide as you die inside,

Don't let the tears fall from your eyes.

You want to be strong I know,

To bear the sting as your losses grow,

To hear the taunts as they bait you,

Forgetting they have failed too.

-Failure by Lucifera Santez

* * *

Elena Gilbert felt as if her legs were demanding a permanent vacation as she sat finally at the inviting chair in her office. Straight six hours of surgery was definitely satisfying when you got the desired result. She had done three cleft palate surgeries in straight row and man the pleasure you got from giving the families the good news was worth the fatigue and sleepless nights.

She was good at what she did and proud to do it. She had no social life to speak of from past year and she liked to devote the hours to her craft. She could feel the sleep slipping through tiniest of cracks of tiredness. She let herself drift which was the reason she didn't hear her office manager April Young when she came to leave the mail on Elena's desk.

"Overexerted yourself again, didn't you?"

"Nah, just a bit tired. I am sure I just need sleep for couple of hours, nothing else." Elena answered without opening her eyes.

"Yeah you should take this Mikaelson guy's offer. 10 million dollars is not something you would want to refuse without thinking."

Elena shot from her chair as if somebody had electrocuted her.

"10 million dollars?" she stuttered.

"Yes apparently that's his new offer."

"You are kidding right?"

"I don't joke about 10 million dollars Elena. Why don't you just go to New Orleans and fix this guy's whatever that needs to be fixed?" there was mild annoyance in April's bespectacled eyes.

It was not as if 10 million dollars was something to reject without a second thought but however tempting this offer was, she wasn't going to take it. Call it a hunch, sixth sensation, déjà vu she had a very bad feeling about this Mikaelson guy.

What did he needed fixed exactly that he was paying 10 million dollars? Was he a man stuck in the wrong body? She had done a lot of gender correction. Hopkins had her on the top of their rec sheet. Was he homophobic? Afraid of coming out to his parents? Whatever was the case she knew she couldn't take him as a patient. Whoever was offering that kinda of money was surely a lot of trouble. She knew it was gonna hurt. 10 million dollars could be nice security in her bank account.

"Fax him my denial and referral letter." She instructed.

"Already done that numerous times. Why don't you talk to him and convey you are strictly not interested in performing his surgery for any ridiculous amount of money."

Elena nodded as she took the card from April. There was a crest or more like stylized E twined intricately with a serpent.

_E. Mikaelson, __château de __la __mort, New Orléans, Louisiana, U.S.A. _no house number, no street name, and no zip code just a contact number written at the bottom of the card.

She held the receiver between her ear and shoulder as she waited for the call to connect reviewing the weighty nightmare that was Amy Bradley's case file. Operating on girl was a difficult task and not only because of the numerous burns that were healing on her body. The therapist was unwilling to see her and she wasn't blaming Matt, not after what happened the last time-

A deep masculine voice answered the other end of the line. "_Château de __la __mort, Damon Salvatore._"

"Hello this is Dr. Elena Gilbert. Is Mr. Mikaelson available?"

"No doctor he isn't. May I take the message?" the guy sounded like one of those upper crusts educated in some fancy expensive boarding school.

"Sure." Maybe this time he would get the message that she wasn't interested in performing any kind of surgery on him for any amount of money. "I got Mr. Mikaelsons letter and latest offer but my answer is still the same. I can't come to New Orleans for the surgery. But I would be happy enough to do so here in Chicago."

"Indeed." Was it her or did this Mr. Salvatore sound a bit cold?

"You understand doctor that money is no object and Mr. Mikaelson is in great need. Can't you make an exception?"

"As I have stated before Mr. Salvatore I am unable to leave Chicago. I have previous engagements and responsibilities. I would be too happy to do the consultation and surgery if Mr. Mikaelson could come to Chicago." She wanted to pull her hair from her scalp from frustration.

"That is not possible Dr. Gilbert."

"Then I am sorry I can do nothing more. My office manager has faxed a referral sheet."

"I will convey your message to Mr. Mikaelson. Thank you for your time Dr. Gilbert." He hung up with an abrupt click.

What was with this Mikaelson guy? Why couldn't he come to Chicago? Was he badly injured? Russian mafia? Mob? Or was he one of those people who were afraid to fly on a plane?

Anyway whatever it was she was sure she wasn't going to get anymore ludicrous offers for a single operation.

But who had referred her to him? It wasn't as if she was the only one reconstructive surgeon. There were numerous others, who were experienced than her, famous than her. Then who had referred Dr. Elena Gilbert to this E. Mikaelson?

Or he could have read about her in that stupid article of times. That article had given her more exposure than she needed. Damn. But she hoped he had got the message that she wasn't interested in his offer.

"So rejected the million dollar offer?" April mocked lightly as she came to inform her about her next patient.

"Yeah." She said getting up.

"Well you have Robinsons next. So I would suggest you take an aspirin or two."

"Damn." She cursed. This day was getting way too longer.

* * *

Finally she was free for the evening. No more patients. She mused stretching her hands as she leaned on her car for support. So Chinese takeout, a good movie and a long overdue chat with Caroline was in her schedule. A slight whoosh alerted her of a presence. She turned to see if it was April coming to collect her car after locking the office up but there was no one. She felt spooked and she hadn't felt spooked since she was ten and her brother Jeremy had played a stupid prank on her.

"Hello?" See no answer. It was just a gust of wind. Her rational mind argued when she heard the swish.

In her haste to take out the car keys from her bag she didn't notice the figure advancing towards her. And in next moment her world became a dab of black as her body crumpled on ground.

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**So another cliffhanger. I am evil that way. Review and let me know what ya thought of the chapter. You can see the pics related to my fic on my twitter account or the link will be on my profile page in couple of days. Love y'all.**

**-Eos**


	3. Chapter 3

**A new chapter. I had to research a bit before writing this so it took a little bit more time than I was expecting. Thanks a lot for reviewing, favoriting, following, reading or scrolling through. I don't own Vampire Diaries. Enjoy…**

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Chapter three

For her I am no one,

A scepter banished,

In the well

Of darkness…

A beast,

Ugly and wild,

A man,

Bound to love a woman- child.

-Beast by Lucifera Santez

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It had been years since she had opened her eyes in a bedroom which wasn't hers. The sudden burst of panic sent her clawing her surroundings for her clothes and underwear but then she remembered she was not getting any action these days. But her brain reminded her that a large chunk of time was black which meant drugs or anesthesia were involved which pointed to the conclusion that she had been abducted. She patted herself hastily again just to discover her clothes were all there, even her shoes which meant some pervert hadn't played out all his fantasies of sleeping beauty on her.

Where the hell was she? And what the hell was with the drapes around the bed? Was she really sleeping somewhere locked in tower so that some aged old perv could come and play prince to her sleeping beauty?

Elena sat up, trying to open the heavy velvet crimson drapes. Finally when she managed her eyes were awestruck with the beauty of the room. It was a room fit for queens and empresses. All vivid splashes of colors against the somber background of crème. Her feet sank in the thick plush carpet as she ventured to open the windows which were shut and curtains drawn.

She tried opening one of them but they were locked. Seriously all this was getting very twisted fairy tale type. She looked around to take in the room more closely. Whoever had decorated it had serious bucks and great style. But this didn't answer her question about where she was. She glanced at her watch, it was nearly six which meant she had been here for more than 12 hours. Good lord her patients, her appointments? She was going to kill whoever was responsible for this shit.

The sound of turning lock alerted her and she dashed to pick the heavy vase standing in the corner. She was going to crack her captor's skull. How dare anyone abduct her and keep in this beautiful room? Well okay she was going to give discount on the number of times vase was going to meet her captor's head for keeping her in this lovely room.

Well she had neglected the part where you try to come up with a plan of escape if your abductor is too beautiful and he turns your brains to mush, making you ineligible of any coherent thought.

The guy who came through the door was one of the sexiest men she had ever seen in flesh or photos. He stood just a bit less than six feet. His body lithe and athletic, toned as a swimmer's or fencers. The black silk shirt clung to his hard musculature giving a teasing hint about washboard abs. She was swooning and she hadn't even properly let herself register his face. Dear lord was this guy for real? His face was stuff of women fantasies. Straight nose which was just perfect, not too long nor too short, pale skin with olive undertones, his face was a perfect clash of strong jaw line and high cheekbones, all laying emphasis on his deep blue eyes which were on her face.

"Good morning Dr. Gilbert. Welcome to Chateau de la mort." His sentence had come to an end and the vase from Elena's hand was flying towards him at an incredible skull cracking speed.

* * *

But the scene that unfolded in the next moment was more like anti climax. He ducked split second before the projectile could touch him and the vase bounced harmlessly from the back wall.

The rich guy from New Orleans had her kidnapped and this was the secretary Damon Salvatore she had talked to on phone? Nothing made sense.

"Dr. Gilbert? Dr. Gilbert?" he was waving his hands in front of her face trying to gain her attention.

"Your douche of a boss had me kidnapped. Let me go." She tried to summon her best commanding voice.

"I will not hurt you, I assure you but I am afraid I can't let you go." His voice had slight accent. Probably French? Italian?

"You see Mr. Mikaelson is in great need Dr. Gilbert. He needs your skills and he is willing to pay for it. Whatever price you name, it's yours. You just have to operate on him." Was she imagining or did Damon Salvatore's voice had really roughened from emotion.

"So let's assume maybe I get ready to operate but what the hell I am operating on?" she was exasperated from all the riddles this guy was talking in even if he was hot.

"All will be explained in due time Dr. Gilbert. I just ask for a little of your time and patience. All your questions will be answered in couple of hours."

"So what do I do till then? Play charades with you to amuse myself or are you gonna lock me in here like new fish in an overpriced aquarium?" her eyes were narrowed, challenging him.

"I will do no such thing Doctor but I can provide you books for your entertainment." He was amused.

She scowled. Handsome bastard. If he thought she was staying meekly without fight then he was dead wrong.

"So am I to remain in here during the two hours I have to meet your jerk boss or am I allowed to go out of this room?"

"I am sorry Dr. Gilbert but I can't allow you to go out. Will there be anything else?" he was still polite.

"You haven't fed me. I can't operate on empty stomach now, can I?" her voice was saccharine sweet.

"My apologies Doctor. Refreshment will be on its way. There is a dress in closet. You can change before I come to take you to Mr. Mikaelson."

"No thank you. I prefer my own clothes." She glared.

"As you wish. Good day Dr. Gilbert." He was about to lock the door when she asked the question that was niggling her.

"Mr. Salvatore if you don't mind my asking, what kind of surgeries does Mr. Mikaelson require? Is he a man stuck in wrong body? Do I need to perform gender correction?"

It looked as if he was on the verge of laughing out loud. If she looked closely she could see the flush on his face and sheen of moisture in his eyes indicative that he was trying hardly to suppress his laughter.

"Why don't you ask him that when you meet him Dr. Gilbert?" and with that parting remark he shut the door locking it.

* * *

Damon Salvatore couldn't control himself. Gender correction? He was laughing so hard, he thought his bones would crack. Tears of laughter were running down his eyes as he entered his master's chambers.

"What has got you in this splendid mood Damon?" Elijah enquired.

"The Doctor, master. You wouldn't believe what she asked me."

"And what would be that Mr. Salvatore?"

"She asked if you needed gender correction." Damon couldn't control himself and he started laughing again.

Gender Correction? Elijah couldn't fathom why the doctor had even thought of such thing. He was comfortable with his masculinity, thank you very much.

"She is feisty isn't she Damon? Just as Trevor told us?" there was a note of curiosity in his voice.

"That she is sire. But I would advise you not to mention Trevor or her abduction. She is very cross with you at the moment." Damon advised.

"The perks of you being my advisor I guess. I didn't even order her kidnapping."

"But she doesn't need to know that master. She already tried to break my skull. If she knew her abduction my deed she will kill me."

"Afraid of a mortal Damon?" Elijah mocked.

"Just this one sire."

* * *

Elena decided to examine the room closely. What else was she gonna do for two hours? She took in the paintings on the wall, vases placed strategically around the room. The room was decorated with casual yet stately approach. She decided to check out the dress Damon Salvatore said was in the closet.

Holy hell, he called this a closet. It was bigger than her room back home in Mystic Falls. There was a single dress hanging from the hanger, still in covers. She unwrapped it and she couldn't stop herself from running her hands on the smooth fabric.

The dark green color enhanced the cut and style of dress. She could imagine herself wearing it and looking fabulous in it. My god, Caroline would have an orgasm if she saw the label.

But Elena was made of sterner stuff. She would resist this temptation. But when she looked herself in the full length mirror, she knew resisting would be hard. She felt dirty in her day old clothes. She could imagine how smooth the fabric of the dress would feel against her skin.

She put the confection of green silk back in the closet where she had found it.

Damn, she would better eat the sandwiches E. Mikaelson's staff had sent her and truth to be told she was ravenously hungry.

* * *

It was time. Elijah could feel the rays of sun fading away as the warmth receded too. His deduction was confirmed as Damon came to help him to his room. If fates didn't conspire against him this time, by grace of gods he would see his garden tomorrow, see how world had changed around him in this past twenty years.

"Did you fetch the good doctor Damon?"

"No sire I will after you are settled in your room."

"Do you think she would agree Damon? What will we tell her when she sees I heal as fast as I am cut?" Elijah's voice was anxious.

"She has a choice. To accept willingly or I can compel her." Elijah knew Damon's ruthlessness once he set his mind to something.

* * *

She jumped eagerly as lock of her door turned. She was dying from boredom from past hour and half. In came Damon Salvatore in all his sexy glory.

He raised his eyebrow on her state of clothes. But he didn't say anything further about the said topic.

"Mr. Mikaelson will see you now doctor." He was almost formal in his statement.

"Hey do you think I could get something to eat, I am starved." She whined.

"It would be better if you eat after you see Mr. Mikaelson, Dr. Gilbert." He was sincere in his advice and Elena had no choice but to follow him. It was evening, the smell of spice and old books became prominent as she took the turn and entered another corridor richly decorated along the lines of her room. The paintings looked as if they were gracing walls of some Museum, the carpets spotless and woven intricately. Everything in this corridor was in shades of black and red. The floors were cool in comparison to her room which meant this wing housed a person on constant basis. She was lost in her thoughts when the sound of opening door broke her trance.

She entered a room that was furnished with every comfort imaginable to man. The walls were littered with paintings showing mythical creatures, castles and forests. Did this E. Mikaelson have fairy tale fetish?

One side of his room was completely glass and she could see a very beautiful garden from where she was standing. Ah, the joys money could buy.

The light in the room was adequate but placed at very bizarre angles so that they created a corner of shadow near the wall of glass. At first she had completely missed but there was a person sitting on chair in that corner. He was facing them but it looked he had hood over his face. Was he afraid that sight of his flesh would render her unconscious?

"Mr. Mikaelson?" her voice was uncertain.

"I am here Dr. Gilbert. Damon if you would?" his voice was deep and he had an accent which was a sort of blend of every language imaginable. She shivered when he spoke. It felt as if voice caressed her skin.

Damon Salvatore moved to switch on another light, one that illuminated the shadowy corner where Mr. Mikaelson sat.

The harsh whiteness showed his deep black robes in excellent detail. There was a thin lining of gold twined with silver along the borders. His face was still hidden beneath his hood. Did this guy need an invitation?

"Are you ready Dr. Gilbert?" there was his voice again messing with her mind again but what did he think, she was going to be horrified by his sagging jowls? She had pegged him for an old guy but his voice didn't sound like one. Okay so she was going to get a look on elusive E. Mikaelson's face at last.

She hummed her assent.

He didn't have creepy tilted eyes or sagging cheeks or broken nose. He didn't have face, period.

* * *

"Holy Jesus." She leaned over him, reaching for the mass of twisted scar tissue that covered the front of his misshapen skull. It was completely healed, and had covered his forehead, eyes, nose, cheeks, and chin. His hair was deep dark bronze but there were shades of pure white in it near his face like little snow on rich earth. He didn't have ears, and his mouth was a hole at the bottom.

"What the hell happened to you?" she was shaken inside but she kept her voice steady.

"I had an accident, a terrible accident. It's a bit difficult to explain." She sensed pain in his voice and her heart twisted a bit in her chest. She knew it was no accident but a fate someone had awarded him. Who the hell could do something like this to a man?

She ignored the annoying way in which Damon Salvatore was hovering over her. She gently started to touch his raddled flesh to feel the imprecise bones beneath it. His eye sockets weren't empty, and there was no sign of epidermal hemorrhage or edema. No indication of any inflammation or infection, either; his twisted skin felt cool beneath her fingers. All she smelt was spice and something that was wholly him.

"You are not frightened by my appearance." The hole stretched if he was trying to smile.

"I have seen worse than this."She said but in fact she hadn't. She had never encountered injuries this extensive in her career. Compared to him Amy Bradley was a super model.

Her fingers told her he had suffered a very thorough facial smash of all the bones in the front of his skull, but the breaks were all different, as if he had been repeatedly thrown into a metal grate at various angles. And how had he escaped brain trauma? She'd never seen a patient with such injuries who had been allowed to heal like this.

"Mr. Mikaelson, am I the first surgeon to examine you?"

"No, there was another who said he could do nothing for me after throwing up on me." His ruined face emphasized on the beauty of his voice, the accent making it a symphony for her ears.

"So you are telling me that you have never been treated for these injuries?"

"It was not possible. As you can see for yourself I am a medical challenge." His voice sounded sad but amused as if he was recalling a private joke.

She performed a more thorough examination, surveying the map of ruin from the top of his cranium to the rather precise line at his throat where the scars abruptly ended. What her hands were telling her, however, couldn't be true.

"Mr. Mikaelson who did this to you sir?"

"I was severely beaten, many times over, and then subjected to… immersion in a corrosive liquid. I remained unconscious for some time, and when I awoke, my injuries had healed." His long fingers moved as he answered her, distracting her to the nth degree.

That he wasn't dead was a miracle, but what he was telling her didn't fit with his condition. Unless he had lain in a coma for months and had some unusual bone structure. Yet all Elena could find was solid intact bone structure that had healed and formed angles and dimensions that were stuff of nightmares.

"Are you sure no one operated on you Mr. Mikaelson?" Who would operate like this? A drunkard, a madman or a psychopath?

"Quite sure, you see it was only a week."

She snatched her hands away.

"I can't help you if you lie to me Mr. Mikaelson."

"I am not lying and call me Elijah. I have spontaneous healing abilities."

"And I can fly. Want me to give you a demonstration?" she scoffed.

"I knew you won't believe me. So watch and learn Dr. Gilbert." He said and took the dagger from Damon Salvatore's hand and plunged it in his palm.

Her hand snaked to grab his but Damon Salvatore held her hand in iron grip of his and released it only after there was a deep gash in Elijah's palm and blood ran down his fingers staining the pristine floor.

He was a madman trying to prove his barmy story. She took his hand in hers and before her own eyes the blood flow slugged and two sides of gash pulled, skin repairing itself until there was no trace of cut. She must be dreaming. The anesthesia hadn't left her system. That was the only reason she could procure for what her eyes had seen.

"Nice trick Elijah. What did you use? Fake dagger? Tomato ketchup?" she asked while examining his now healed palm.

"That was no trick Dr. Gilbert." He said while pressing the dagger in her hands, "you can try for yourself."

She examined the hand he had cut and then she took his other hand and made a shallow cut. And before her eyes the cut healed itself without a trace.

My god. Her head was spinning. She couldn't fathom the implication of what she had seen for herself. How could his tissues repair themselves so fastly? What was he?

"Who no, what are you?" her voice wasn't terrified, it was amazed, amazed at the miracle she had witnessed. A drop of his blood could heal victims like Amy Bradley, change lives of thousands.

"I am a victim of brutality and nothing else doctor." He stood and she could see his hard muscled chest where the robe had parted. Man oh man, he could be a romance cover model from face down and his face could be the poster for any horror slasher movie.

"Because of my ability I can't seek conventional help. Surgery was never an option for me before Damon read the article about you." He felt the space before him as if searching for something. She didn't know why she offered her hand but when he took it, it was as if the world had come to a standstill, the stars had twinkled, her heart had stopped for a moment, a very crucial moment.

Understanding donned on her, "that's why you brought me. You think I can operate fast enough. You think I can reconstruct your face, literally beat the clock. But what if I can't?" her voice wavered as if she didn't want to disappoint him.

"Then I'm afraid my face will be lost forever and I will become a permanent prisoner of this darkness that shields me yet confines me in its embrace…."

**So what do you think? Drop a comment and let me know. You can see the dress Elena was admiring on my profile or my twitter account ( EosBlaze). **

**Love ya guys.**

**Have a good day.**

**-Eos**


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